


queen of the rodeo

by pinkmaggit



Category: Metallica
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Car Sex, Cowboys, Hand Jobs, Horseback Riding, M/M, Rivalry, Rodeo Competitions, Tender Sex, Wet & Messy, bruise kink, jason rides james' dick like the cowboy he is, kinda ? it's like barely there, sloppy make out sessions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:33:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26321938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinkmaggit/pseuds/pinkmaggit
Summary: fell in love with a rider,dirt king, black crown───or: cowboys
Relationships: James Hetfield/Jason Newsted
Comments: 8
Kudos: 38





	queen of the rodeo

**Author's Note:**

> edit: IM SO STUPID lol. i was trying to edit a different fic and deleted this one :'-) anyways a repost lmao
> 
> (yes this is all a bad sex joke let me have this)
> 
> anyways. i have no explanation other than cowboys r hot. lyrics from big sky by orville peck (thank u mr peck for the best melancholy gay cowboy love songs ever)
> 
> this was the last fic i had kickin around in my drafts and since uni is starting i'll prob be dead for a while so :'-) see u all around lol
> 
> enjoy ~

James sighs, readjusting the buckle of his chaps once again, the worn brown leather sliding softly over his jeans, fringes swaying with his movements.

It’s later in the afternoon, the sun beginning its dip along the horizon, golden light streaking across the grounds of the stampede, the sky lit up orangey-red.

There’s the constant press of people, and James fixes the position of his belt buckle as he heads over to the stands, the roar from the crowd growing ever louder as he slips into the back of the corral.

It’s absolutely packed, laughter and shouts ringing as people get into the saddle, horses snorting as James makes his way around girls warming up with their lassos, ropes whistling gently as they swing.

There’s a while yet until the bronc events are underway; they’re still doing tie-down roping, probably about halfway through the competitors, so James is pretty sure he’s likely got a good hour or so before he’s up. 

And yet, he’s still a little nervous. That’ll probably never change, the squirm in his guts, the flutter of his heart. It’s as much a constant to these events as his chaps and spurs are, by this point. 

“Het!”

James turns; Lars is waving him over to where Cliff, Kirk, and few other friends are milling about over in the back, covered in dirt and nursing beers. He makes his way over slowly, pushing through throngs of people. 

Lars frowns. “Man, where’d you go? You’re gonna miss all the action.”

James shrugs. “Had to grab my other gloves,” he says, “Besides, it’s fine. Lots left.”

“Ready for later?” 

James looks over; Lars is grinning, almost- _smirking_. Like he knows something James doesn’t and is happy to hold it over James’ head for his own amusement. _Little fucker_.

Frowning, James fixes Lars with a hard look. “Spill it.”

Lars hands him the program listing. “Guessing you haven’t looked at who’s in your event,” he teases. James rolls his eyes but takes the booklet gingerly, flipping the cover open. Most of it is wrinkled, paper stained with mud and yellowed from sunlight. 

_Likely from spending a day in Lars’ back pocket,_ James thinks, gloved hands flicking through each sheet until he gets to the page for bareback bronc.

And then he pauses, because his gut swoops.

Sure enough, right next to his name and number, 338, is _Jason Newsted,_ _562_. James gulps.

 _Fuck._

James would probably consider himself to be one of the best bronc riders in the state. There’s a reason he’s won a bunch of championships, anyways. 

Up until last year in Colorado; it had rained all day, and James knew his ride hadn’t been the best, definitely not what he was capable of. It had still gotten him a good score though, a solid 76. James had figured he’d still had a good chance at the gold.

And then Jason had charged out of the gates.

James remembers watching him. It had caught him entirely by surprise; Jason was so lean, and yet the strength hidden underneath all his gear was undeniable. His ride was so _fluid_ , like a dance, his horse snorting and kicking and leaping, Jason leaning into it, rocking with each buck and swaying into the movements.

It was spellbinding. Fringes shaking, spurs glinting. James could only stare, struck dumb as Jason’s bronco crashed through the ring, dirt flying. He’d finally gotten bucked off, mud splattering as he’d pulled himself up, grin huge as the announcers had called out an 81.

 _81._ That wasn't an easy score to get.

James had tried to shake it off, deeming it little more than a fluke. Until Jason took home the gold again, and again, and again. Then it just pissed him off. 

Doesn’t help that he thinks Jason’s good-looking. That’s probably a safe allowance, good-looking. Hell of a lot safer than hot. (James doesn’t really want to confront the fact that he’d definitely fuck Jason if given the opportunity.)

And now, here they are. The championships. State title on the line. And Jason’s gunning for it just as much as he is.

If James wasn’t nervous before, he sure as hell is now.

Lars nudges him with his elbow. “Don’t worry, Het. You’ll kick his ass.”

As much as James appreciates Lars’ unwavering certainty in his abilities, he’s still- _afraid,_ a little. He’s seen firsthand how good Jason is, how natural he looks in the saddle, and knows intimately the kind of talent and raw skill he possesses.

James just hopes he can surpass it, too.

───

Soon enough the tie-down roping wraps up, the corrals filled with the rush of people as everyone gets ready for the bareback bronc.

The sun’s dipping lower, the evening cooling down slightly, the blistering heat of the afternoon fading to something mellow.

James sighs, a little, adjusting his leather gloves nervously. He knows he’s good, knows he’s got a solid shot. The only floating variable right now is Jason; he’s a wild card, really. Entirely unpredictable. James isn’t sure what to expect from him, considering that he usually seems to come almost out of nowhere, ride like _hell_ , and take the gold before disappearing.

It’s simultaneously frustrating and awe-inspiring. 

They’re lined up around the edges of the ring. James glances over, and feels his heart leap into his throat.

Jason’s beside him, adjusting his spurs gingerly. His curly hair is tied up under the brim of a heavy black Stetson, and he’s wearing a creamy western shirt with gorgeously-stitched black flowers and pearly buttons, a dark red bandana around his neck. And his _chaps_ ; finely worked black leather, pressed with floral patterns, layered in the shape of stars and curly, gilt edges. The thick fringes shake with his movements, Jason restrapping his spur over the arch of his black boots.

James can only blink dumbly. 

It’s like Jason’s pulled out all the stops, showing up in the sexiest outfit James has ever seen him in. And it’s definitely getting to him; James hates to admit it, but _god_ if it doesn’t look good on Jason. 

He can feel his face flushing slightly, and James looks away, trying in vain to focus on the toes of his boots so he doesn’t keep staring at Jason like a moron.

There’s a shout from the announcer, muffled slightly. The crowd roars, and James pulls himself up the bars of the ring so he can see a little better.

The first competitor’s out of the gates, horse bucking wildly. James watches their movements, watches their sway into each kick.

 _Pretty decent,_ he thinks, _nothing showstopping._

Time passes, slow like honey, almost. James knows the minutes are ticking by but it feels like everything’s ground to a standstill, a continuous worry simmering in his gut.

Another competitor hits the dirt. Another horse charges from the gates.

The crowd roars.

And then soon enough it’s his turn. James closes his eyes, shakes out his hands, and clambers over the bars of the gate, slipping onto his horse delicately, patting their flank. Grips the reins tight.

There’s the bang of the starting gun, and the gate flies open, and then-

He’s flying. James fists the reins, rocks into the buck of his horse, sways into each jump. There’s nothing like it; nothing like the surge in his veins and the crash of his heart, blood rushing in his ears. Everything else fades out, like static in his mind as he focuses only on his horse below him, kicking his heels and throwing his arm into the movements, holding on for seconds more, the reins sliding out from his gloves.

James hits the ground, his horse jumping across the dirt. The impact knocks the wind out of him, and he has to take a moment to pull himself up, but the judges are smiling, and the announcers call out his score.

_Solid ride from Hetfield, and the judges like it too- 85 points!_

He’s giddy, heading back to the corral. Lars and Cliff and Kirk cheer from the stands, whistling as he clambers back over the bars. James lets out a breath of relief. 

That was probably one of his best rides. Ever. _Hopefully,_ James thinks, _hopefully it’s enough._

Jason’s getting onto his horse in the chute, fringes of his chaps shifting with his movements. His curls tumble between his shoulders under the brim of his Stetson, muscles shifting underneath his shirt as he grabs hold of the reins.

And then there’s the announcer, counting down.

_Three… Two… One… And he’s gone!_

His horse is a blur of movement, head tossing, mane shaking, snorting as it leaps and bucks across the dirt ring. Jason sways fluidly and effortlessly into each movement, spurs hard and throws himself through each kick. 

James watches, enraptured. Jason’s so strong and slender, graceful as he rides. It’s incomparable, and even when Jason hits the ground, he does so gently, almost tenderly.

_And what a ride from Newsted! I’m hoping we’ll see more of this kid’s skills soon. And that looks like- looks like an 88 from the judges!_

It’s funny. James isn’t even _mad_. Seeing Jason’s huge grin? James feels a slight squirm in his guts, not of jealousy, but of-

_Oh, fuck._

The rest of the competitors finish up, and soon enough they’re being called out for the trophies, made to stand on the podium as the cameras flash and the crowd cheers. 

James’ hands are sweaty, gripping the cup gingerly, metal sparkling in the overhead lights from the stands.

He’s still ridiculously proud, even if it’s not the first place that he wanted. 

There’s a nudge at his shoulder; James jerks, surprisedly, turning to face Jason who’s holding out a gloved hand.

“Hey, man. Congrats, seriously,” Jason says, grinning huge and dimpled. 

James feels his cheeks go pink a little, but he takes Jason’s hand, shakes gently. “Thanks,” he murmurs, “You too.”

Jason’s grin is infectious, and James finds himself smiling, laughing as the cameras go off and he’s swarmed by Lars and Cliff and Kirk.

When he looks up again, Jason’s gone. James feels a sudden surge of regret, almost; there’s so much he wants to say, so much more he wants to-

 _So much more he wants_.

“Hey,” he asks Cliff, once they’re heading out of the arena and everything’s been set away, his horse led back into the trailer, “Did you see where Jason went? The guy with the black chaps?”

Cliff gives him a knowing look. “Parking lot,” he says, “Guess we’ll be seeing you later?”

James flushes a little. “Yeah,” he murmurs, and then he waves goodbye, heading out through the press of people, disappearing into the crowd.

All he can think about is Jason’s smile, Jason’s hand warm in his.

───

It takes him a bit of searching to find Jason.

He’s disappeared from the main corral, and James makes his way through the grounds, finally stumbling upon him towards the back of the parking lot. 

It’s quiet out here, the noise from the stands fading out. 

Jason’s leaning up against his truck, watching as the sun goes down. He takes a slow sip from a bottle of beer. His Stetson’s discarded on the hood, his long, curly hair catching the last rays from the sun, face bathed in orange warmth.

It makes James’ stomach churn.

And it strikes him, suddenly, because he can’t deny it anymore; Jason’s _hot_. Strong grey eyes, soft and sharp curves of his face, all lean muscle. _And a cute butt_ , James’ mind supplies, because _fuck_ , does Jason’s ass look good in those tight jeans, all worn and washed out.

James pauses, a little unsteady. He might’ve had a couple beers, rationalizing that he might need some liquid help to face Jason.

“Oh, hey man. Sweet ride.”

Blinking, James realizes that Jason’s turned to face him. “You were really fucking good,” Jason says, his grin huge. Elbows leaned on the hood of his truck, legs crossed in the tight leather of his chaps, lazy and at-ease, red bandana tied around his neck.

James wants to eat him alive.

“Thanks,” he manages, “Shit, so were you.” 

Jason smiles. “Want a beer? You should come hang for a bit.”

He’d be a fool to refuse. James nods, ambling closer as Jason grins and reaches through his truck window, passing him a still-cool Budweiser, dripping with condensation, and a bottle opener. Jason slides up onto the hood of his truck, waving gently for James to join him.

James does.

He takes a long pull from the bottle, savouring the bitter taste. Jason sighs next to him. 

“Fuck, you were really good today,” Jason murmurs, taking a quick swig of his beer, “Seriously. I was so psyched out watching you.”

James laughs. “Really? As soon as I saw you I knew you had it, man. Was like, fuckin’ pro shit there.”

Jason giggles, sipping from his beer. James watches his tongue lick away a couple stray drops.

“Thanks, James. You heading home anytime soon?”

Humming, James swallows another mouthful of beer, watching the sun dip below the horizon, the red-orangey light against the encroaching sheen of the purple night sky.

James shakes his head. “Nah, think I’ll stick around.” 

It’s unspoken; _so I can spend more time with you._

Jason smiles, all soft and crooked. It makes James’ heart flutter, a little. 

“So,” Jason murmurs, voice heavy, “If you’re not doing anything later…” 

“If-” 

Jason leans in, all quick and slight, pressing his lips against James’ for just a second. James is struck dumb, frozen for a moment, until his cheeks flood with heat.

“Caught you staring at my ass,” Jason snickers quietly.

James is sure he’s going to pass out from embarrassment.

Stutteringly, James tries to explain. “Fuck, I- shit, I’m sorry, I-”

Jason’s hand slides over his. It’s grounding, warm and soft and so achingly familiar, almost, and something about the contact electrifies James and also settles him.

“Hey,” Jason says, grinning, “S’cool. Pretty hot, too. And, you know,” he whispers, “If you’re interested.”

James swallows. “Fuck.”

“Yeah?”

Nodding, James lets Jason drag him in for a kiss, slow and sweet, lips sliding all slick. Jason bites his lip gently, gasping as James pulls him in tight, hands gripping his sides.

Jason blinks, his face flushed. “Shit. You wanna-” he says, jerking his thumb at his mud-splattered truck. James manages a weak _yeah_ , before he kisses Jason again, swallowing up his moan when James pinches his hip gently, losing himself in the feeling of Jason against him.

───

This isn’t really how James thought things would play out. But, like. _Fuck_ , he’s not complaining. Not at all.

He’s already taken off his shirt and hat and gloves and tossed them across the backseats. James groans as Jason grips his cheeks and kisses him hard. Sends him into a tailspin, hot and muggy and dazed. 

Too much. Not enough. James _burns_.

“Fuck- _fuck,_ Jason,” he manages, shuddering for a breath. Jason giggles.

Licks his lips slowly, teasingly. James can’t look away, eyes drawn to the slide of his tongue, the wet shine of his lips. 

“Okay,” Jason murmurs, “Okay.”

Jason leans up, stripping out of his shirt, pulling the buttons apart gently. His eyes are heavy, hands slow and deliberate. James watches hungrily as Jason reveals more and more skin, gorgeously unblemished and smooth. 

The shirt falls to the ground. Then Jason’s wiggling out of his chaps, tossing the leather aside, and as his hands go for his belt buckle James can’t contain himself any longer.

“Fuck- can I?” 

Jason blinks. “Yeah, shit- please,” he says, breath hitching as James’ fingers grip the cool metal, gingerly tugging the leather belt through the loops of his jeans. 

The buckle’s shaped like a heart. It’s like a punch to the gut.

James swallows, fingers working as he pulls Jason’s belt free and lets it drop to the ground. 

Then he undoes the button. 

Gets a couple fingers around the zip of Jason’s jeans. 

Pulls down, achingly slow, teeth parting.

He feels his mouth water. Jason’s briefs are tight along his navel, hair soft and downy above the waistband. And then James’ eyes are drawn to his bulge, straining against the fabric; James trails a couple fingers gently over Jason’s dick.

“Ah- shit,” Jason groans, “Fuck.” He reaches up, tugging James in for a filthy kiss, all tongue and slick spit. It makes James’ head spin, makes him unsteady, drunk on the feeling of Jason’s lips against his. 

James breaks the kiss for a breath, chest heaving. Jason’s face is all flushed, lips glimmery with spit. “Do you- fuck, what do you want?” James asks, stroking Jason’s hip through his jeans, smoothing over the ridge of bone.

Jason grins a little, leaning in to nip James’ bottom lip. “Shit. I mean, you have _no clue_ how bad I wanna sit on your dick,” he murmurs, eyelashes fluttering as he kisses along James’ cheekbones.

 _Oh, god._ James feels his heart knock against his ribs, sharp and fast, his gut swirling with desire. 

“Yeah, I- that’s good,” James manages, feeling hot and overwhelmed at the way Jason cups the back of his head and draws him in for another kiss. There’s the slow slide of the tip of Jason’s tongue against the seam of James’ lips, and James lets him smooth in, lets Jason press in and deepen the kiss.

It’s better than he’d ever thought. James wants to preserve this moment forever, the warm-soft press of their bodies, Jason achingly close.

Jason pulls back with a gasp, lips parting with a slick little sound. “I’ve got- lube, and shit,” he says, voice wobbly, “Lemme- I’ll grab it.”

James just nods, swallowing hard as he watches Jason lean over the armrest of his truck, rummaging through the glovebox. He can’t look away from the shift of Jason’s ass in those jeans, the waistband sliding loosely around the small of his back.

It makes James wonder; has Jason done this before? Fucked some other cowboy? Hooked up in the half-twilight, long after their events, windows fogging with heat and the slick press of skin? 

_Did he have someone like you?_ His mind suggests tratoriously, _That’s the thing, isn’t it? You want to ruin him for anyone else. Have him coming back again and again, all for you._

_All. For. You._

“Here,” Jason grins, tossing him a bottle of lube and a condom. James flinches and barely manages to catch the little packages, plastic cool in his hands.

The bottle’s still full. James hates to admit how that makes heat rear up from his guts. Jason strips out of his jeans, and then his socks, and then-

And then he’s naked, pressed up against James, skin so warm. Jason’s dick bobs a little between them, flushed and dripping precum. James is sure his tongue is tied in knots, and he lets out a shaky breath when Jason grins and unbuckles his belt, biting along his neck as he pulls the leather free from the loops of James’ jeans.

James grips Jason’s shoulders tight, smoothes his hands over the gentle press of bone, over the knobs of his spine and along the dips of his ribs. Reverent, slow.

Jason hums, a little, pulling his fly open. “Shit, that’s hot,” Jason says, fingers working in the waistband of James’ underwear, teasing. James groans, cock twitching at Jason’s slight touch.

“Fuck- Jase, please,” he murmurs, voice ragged with need. Jason smiles, leaning in to kiss him hot and soft. “C’mon, wanna see you pull ‘em down,” Jason whispers, and _fuck_.

His gut surges with pleasure, dick twitching. James groans, working his jeans and briefs down his legs, pushing them around his knees. Jason watches him, eyes heavy-lidded, before he clambers into James’ lap. 

James grips his hips tight, pulls him in, savouring Jason’s little gasp as he slides over James’ bare thigh.

And then Jason fists James’ dick.

 _Oh, sweet christ_. 

Jason starts slow, stroking under the head, working his thumb through the slit, silky and slick with precum. James moans, hips twitching into Jason’s hand, eyes fluttering shut at the build of pleasure in his veins.

It’s so much, all at once; Jason’s hand around his dick, the other slipping down along the crease of his thigh, teasing lower, teeth pin-pricking in his shoulder. James can only groan, gripping Jason’s sides tight, squeezing the soft bit of flesh at the tops of his thighs, right under his ass.

That gets a quiet moan, Jason pushing himself into James’ touch, hand sipping a little faster, twisting and working slick and tight. 

James can already feel that tell-tale curl in his gut, that burn through his veins, and he gasps, grabbing for Jason’s hand. “Shit- _ah,_ you keep doing that and this is gonna be over,” James manages, chest heaving for breath. Jason giggles.

“Okay, then, let’s speed things up,” Jason whispers, grabbing the lube. 

James’ hunger is an achy, heated thing. Desperate. 

He grabs Jason’s hand. It’s like a shock of electricity, the way their hands touch. Jason’s mouth drops open a little, gazing at James, _wantingly_.

James sighs. “Can- can I?” He says, voice weak. 

Jason blinks, his cheeks going red. “ _Ah-_ yeah, please,” he murmurs, letting James take the bottle of lube.

The cap pops, achingly loud in the silence of the truck.

Squeezing the bottle, James lets the lube drip over his fingers, lets it build up, slick and glimmery in the half-dark. Jason swallows, hands gripping James’ shoulders tight, raising himself on his knees where he’s straddled James’ lap. James reaches his hand under, grips Jason’s asscheek tight with the other.

And then James lets a finger smooth over Jason’s hole. That gets a little gasp, Jason shivering at his touch. “Cold,” he laughs, and James grins, kissing Jason’s collarbone gently.

“Don’t worry, baby,” he says, voice rough, “Won’t be for long.” 

Jason moans at the swirl of James’ fingers, shuddering as James presses a little harder, smoothing over his tight rim, working in slow. And then he slips a digit in.

“ _Ohhh-_ ”

James looks up; Jason’s biting his lip, cheeks flushed, eyes fluttering closed as James rubs a finger along his walls, stroking delicately. Jason shudders, hips twitching a little into James’ touch as James lets him get used to it. Wiggles his finger gently. Slides in and out slowly. 

“C’mon, _I want-_ give me another,” Jason gasps, “I’m not gonna break.”

It’s like every wet dream he’s ever had, but _so_ much better. James isn’t sure if he’s going to make it through this alive.

He slips a second finger up inside Jason, savouring his pleased little whine. Rubs into the stretch. James crooks his fingers gently, searchingly. Jason shudders, mouth dropping open on a groan when James presses a little harder, a little deeper, sliding slow and slick.

“Oh, _fuck_.” Jason moans, working his hips down gently, hands tight on James’ shoulders as he leans in to kiss and lick along the column of James’ neck, teeth scraping over his collarbones. “Shit.”

“Right there, baby?” James murmurs, fingertips rubbing over Jason’s prostate.

Jason laughs, breathily. “Yeah, _fuck,_ there,” he manages, “ _Keep-_ keep going.”

Like James could refuse.

He’d probably been a little generous with the lube; it’s slick and cool, dripping down James’s wrist, leaking out of Jason with each push of his fingers. He pulls them back slowly, letting the pads slip along Jason’s rim before he pushes a third digit inside.

Jason whines, tightening up suddenly. James just pauses, kisses along Jason’s throat, stroking gently over his rim until it relaxes under his touch and goes all soft and fluttery. 

And then he pushes in a little harder. Jason moans, loud, his dick twitching, precum dripping all over James’ hip. It makes him burn, makes him want more, and James swallows, working his fingers in with a wet squelch. 

James watches, enraptured with the way Jason shudders, throwing his head back as James curls his fingers into his prostate and strokes hard. His face is flushed, mouth dropped open on a constant gasp, a stream of _shit shit yeah please please more fuck_ slipping from between his lips.

It’s gorgeous. James wants to see him like this forever.

“Ah- James, please, _please_ ,” Jason begs, his hips twitching down onto James’ fingers, “I’m- I’m good, shit-”

James pinches the skin of Jason’s throat between his teeth. That gets a breathy whimper, Jason shivering as James licks over his collarbones, sucking hard at the junction of his neck as he thrusts his fingers up a little harder, twisting and pressing bluntly. His other hand wraps around Jason’s cock, wet and slick with precum.

Jason moans. “I- I-” he gasps, his hips twitching at the stimulation, almost like he's unsure whether to buck forwards into the warmth of James’ hand or back onto the fingers in his ass. “A _hhh-_ James, _please._ ” 

The haze of arousal that settles over him is so, so heavy. James nods, stupidly. “Okay, baby, okay,” he says, voice low, letting his fingers slip out of Jason with a slick little sound and groping for the condom, too focused on Jason to look away for even a moment.

Tearing the wrapper, James rolls the condom on slowly, groaning when Jason slicks him up with the lube, stroking softly, before leaning in to mouth along the curve of James’ jaw.

“Shit, your dick’s so big,” Jason whispers, voice strained with need.

It shouldn’t get to him like it does. It’s little more than a cheap line, and yet- the way Jason says it, each word rolling filthily off his tongue, the desperation in his eyes- _fuck_ , James can’t be held responsible for the way his cock twitches.

Jason grins, raising up on his knees again. James’ hands come up to grip his hips, just gently, as Jason holds his dick and lines himself up, and then he’s pushing himself down, and-

“Oh, _fuuuuck_.”

James feels his eyes roll back in his head. Jason gasps, fucking his hips down into the stretch, shuddering as James slips in inch by inch. James thinks he’s going to pass out; Jason’s _so_ tight and slick, heady and hot. 

A mixture from heaven.

The air’s gone stiflingly thick, the windows fogged up, condensation dribbling down the glass panes. 

It's ridiculously hot, and even though it's just a messy little hook-up, it’s also sexily filthy, and it hits James like a sucker punch. 

_Fuck._

Groaning, Jason shifts a little, settling into James’ lap and settling his hands on James’ shoulders, shivering at the feeling of James inside of him. “God, shit,” Jason says, voice raspy, slowly rocking his hips.

He looks _so good_ , all flushed and overwhelmed. James loves it, especially when Jason starts to ride him faster, rising on his knees, James’ dick slipping out a couple inches each time before it’s swallowed by that slick, hot heat.

It’s definitely a turn-on to see him go all hazy-eyed over his cock. 

_Permanent jerk-off material,_ James’ mind suggests. Which, _fuck._ The thought of that on its own is nearly too much to handle.

“Ah, shit,” Jason mumbles, hips working fast, cock bobbing as he fucks himself down onto James’ dick, leaking all over the place, “James, James-”

James grips his hips tight, bucks up into the rhythm of Jason’s movement. That gets a sharp whine, Jason shuddering, gasping into the crook of James’ neck.

They move together, quick-hot push and pull, simultaneously tender and careless. James’ hips knock up against Jason’s ass, bones striking the soft flesh of his inner thighs and the curve of his cheeks as Jason moans, begging for more. 

He’ll probably have bruises tomorrow, skin purple-red. James bites down on a groan, leaning in to suck hickeys across Jason’s neck.

“Fuck, I wanted to fuck you so bad earlier,” James says, rough and heavy, “God, in those fucking chaps. Bend you over the goddamn truck, see how pretty your ass looks in them.”

Jason groans desperately, fingers pinching where they’re gripping the muscles of James’ shoulders tight, arching his back and rocking in place, rubbing right where he wants it. “Fuck- _touch me,_ ” he begs.

James wraps his fingers around Jason’s dick, stroking gently underneath the head. “God, you're so fuckin’ hot.”

Moaning, Jason’s eyes flutter shut, tensing up around James’ cock, squeezing tight. He’s gone sloppy, lost all rhythm, just bucking his hips as fast as possible, chasing that high. James _loves_ it.

“Gonna come, baby?”

Jason's head nods, wobbly as he fucks himself down hard, whining high in his throat as he grinds against the head of James’ dick.

James rocks his hips up into Jason's movements, hand sliding over his cock, and Jason _moans,_ tightening up as his eyes roll back in his head. Jason’s dick jerks, and then he's coming all over James’ hand and his stomach, whining through the shuddery waves of pleasure.

It's too much; James feels his dick twitch, groaning as that wave of heat spreads through his body, as that coil winds tight in his gut. _Burning hot_. He fucks his hips up quickly, sloppy and rough and desperate. 

Jason sobs at the overstimulation, his rim going tight around James’ cock, and then James feels his vision haze as he comes, hips pumping as he fills the condom.

_Sweet Christ._

Panting, James sighs, his head dropping, dick twitching through the last spurts. Jason jerks, moaning through a sudden aftershock before he slumps forwards into James’ chest, breaths shuddery against his neck. James lets his clean hand smooth along Jason’s back, rubbing gently through skin clammy with sweat.

“Fuck- that was,” Jason mumbles, “Shit.”

James laughs gently. “Yeah- fuck. Anyone ever told you that you ride dick like a fuckin’ cowboy? Goddamn pro, baby.”

Giggling, Jason bites gently underneath James’ jaw. “You're the first,” he murmurs. “And if you give me twenty minutes, this cowboy will be ready to go again,” Jason smirks, cupping James’ cheeks and kissing him softly.

**Author's Note:**

> <3


End file.
